Springsteen in ’16: An Argument for The Boss

           

           As Americans, is it not our duty to do what we believe is best for the future of this nation? Even if that means running for President of the United States? If you truly believe that you are the best person for the job; that you will be a better leader than anyone else currently running; don’t you have a responsibility as a citizen to campaign for the position? So, I ask, Bruce Springsteen, why haven’t you declared your candidacy yet?

            Listen, Bruce, I think we can all agree, that at this point, you are a better choice than anyone else in the race. Let’s begin with your credentials. You are a celebrity! A much more popular celebrity that Donald Trump and look how good he’s doing. And not only are you a celebrity, but you are a celebrity who’s been outspoken about political issues in the past. When Reagan name dropped you in his 1984 reelection bid, you didn’t hesitate to speak out against him. You were on the forefront of charity songs when you performed on “We are the World.” In the 1990’s, you fought for gay marriage long before it was popular to do so. And you campaigned for Barack Obama, our country’s first African American President, in both 2008 and 2012. Isn’t it time to start campaigning for yourself?

            Who else can sing about the plight of blue collar workers while selling out stadiums whose cheapest seats are $93? These are the same kind of supporters you’ll need when raising taxes is inevitable. Who else can sing about “Girls in their Summer Clothes” as a man in his late fifties and not sound creepy? If anything, you made it sound sincere, even romantic. Who else can perform in front of millions of people at the halftime of the Super Bowl and not rely on dancing, props, or sex to sell it? Think about it Bruce—nobody doesn’t like you. Sure, people might say things like, “I don’t care for his music.” But nobody has ever uttered the words: “I hate Bruce Springsteen.”

            And for Christ’s sake, your nickname is “The Boss.” The Boss! What better nickname for the President of the United States? And you have countless songs at your disposal to use for your campaign. “Born in the USA,” anyone? Hell, when you’re debating these other clowns on national TV, just break out your acoustic and dive into something off of Nebraska. You’ll instantly win over half of America with a stunt like that.

            And I know what you’re thinking: It’s too late to run for president this year. Why not wait until 2020. Three words: Springsteen in ’16! This is the only year that works. The only year your name rhymes perfectly with. Never again will you have a better motto. Say it again: “SPRINGSTEEN in ’16!” Awesome! The best political slogan since “All the Way with LBJ,” way back in 1964.

            So, Bruce, what do you say? We need you. For lack of better words, you were “Born to Run!”

The Grind

           The slick steel groove in the railroad crossing snags Jim’s front wheel like a predator snagging its prey—instantaneously and without warning. The outcome of the ill-fated incident is the same as always—the bicycle stops abruptly and the rider hits the pavement hard. Watching it happen in front of me, I immediately slam on my brakes and make sure that my friend is not injured. But even before that, my body makes an involuntary movement. I cringe. I cringe because I know the feeling. I cringe because I’ve been there before.

            There’s not much that I haven’t done on a bicycle. The time I was taken down by a set of railroad tracks, I was actually in a much worse situation than Jim. My friend Blaine was following directly behind me, right on my wheel, so when I went down, he went over, leaving a pile of bikes and bodies in the middle of a major thoroughfare. We were lucky that the cars behind us slammed on their brakes. Another time I was bombing down a hill, pedaling as fast as I could around a turn, when my left pedal clipped the asphalt, throwing me clear over my handlebars, ripping open my upper lip, knocking out my two front teeth and leaving me with hefty medical bills. Another time I took so much skin off my left arm that I could barely bend at the elbow for over a week. Another time I rode down a mountain in such extreme cold that my hands went completely numb and refused to work correctly for the next several months. I thought for sure that I had permanent nerve damage. And then there are all the little things, like the chipped kneecap and the bruised tailbone and the countless bumps, bruises, scrapes, and scabs. And I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I know so many people who’ve had it so much worse. When it comes down to it, if you’re going to ride a lot of bikes, there’s eventually going to be some pain. No doubt about it. I know, because I’ve ridden a lot of bikes. At one point, you could have almost called me obsessed.

            I’ve always ridden bicycles, since I can remember, but didn’t get seriously into the two-wheeled machines until I moved out west in 2008. And like I oftentimes do, I went absolutely gung-ho. I started with cyclocross and that quickly evolved into cross-country and short track mountain biking. On the road, I’ve done criterions and circuits. I’ve raced fixed-gear and single speed. I’ve done 24-hour solo road and mountain bike races. I’ve ridden tall bikes and swing bikes. I’ve bombed little kids bikes down mountains. I’ve battled homemade chariots with urban gladiators. I’ve ridden nude with 10,000 other naked cyclists. I’ve biked across the United States twice. And then, in 2014, I really got into it. I bought some top of the line equipment. I hired a coach. I quit my job and started training full time. I competed in 52 races—one for each week of the year. And by the time I won the award for the Best All Around Single Speed Rider in Oregon, I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to ride a bike again, let alone race one. As it turned out, sometimes there really can be too much of a good thing.

            I decided to take some time off, limiting my races to a select few, but even those I didn’t really enjoy. And then I injured my back and could barely ride for about six months, but I still didn’t miss it. But then I rehabbed my back and made it strong again and decided to go for my first long ride in a long time. And now I watch as Jim’s front wheel abruptly stops. I watch as his body hits the pavement like a sack of concrete.

            We are riding in the Salem Gravel Grinder, a yearly event that takes place each February. Of all the cycling activities I’ve done throughout my life, this is—somehow—my first gravel grinder. The weather is crap, causing rain to sting my eyes, and the wheel in front of me to spray grit into my mouth. The gravel causes my bike to slog, making each mile feel twice as long, each foot of elevation more like ten. I’m cold, wet, and hungry. Yet I can’t remember being much happier on a bike. Because it’s not a race. It’s just a ride. Like they all used to be. I’m reminded of before 2008, when I rode bikes for the simple enjoyment of it. There were no races or competitions or bragging rights. It was just me and my two wheels, exploring the outskirts of Buffalo, NY, and before that, commuting to class in Potsdam, and before that, circling the block in my hometown of Elma, and before that, circumnavigating Redhouse Lake, and before that, learning to balance in my parent’s dirt driveway.

            As Jim pulls himself off the pavement and hops back on his bike, he’s in good spirits, and says something that immediately strikes a nerve with me. “I’m glad I crashed,” he says. “It reminds me that I’m human. It reminds me that I’m alive.” And I can’t agree more. For the first time in a long time, I’m glad to be back on the bike. Even though I’m cold and wet and hungry. The rain, it stings my eyes. The gravel, it sprays into my mouth. And never has it tasted so good.

Our Greatest President

In just over seven years in office Theodore Roosevelt protected more wilderness than all the other presidents before him combined, but it wasn’t just his conservationism that makes him the most extraordinary president that this country has ever seen. He established the first child welfare laws, introduced worker’s rights, prescription drug regulations, and the Pure Food and Drug Act. Though Roosevelt was born into wealth he turned against his own class, creating an inheritance tax on the rich; he returned a $100,000 campaign donation from Standard Oil back to the corporation; and when an Oregon senator was found to be involved in a land scheme, he sent him to prison.

Roosevelt was the first American to receive the Nobel Peace Prize, for his mediation that ended the Russo-Japanese War, which might have evolved into a world war if he hadn’t intervened. Henry Adams called him “The best herder of emperors since Napoleon.” King Edward VII said he was “the greatest moral force of the age.” And H.G. Wells wrote that “Never did a president so reflect the quality of his time.” Roosevelt was the first to invite an African American to dinner at the White House. He was influential in the building of the Panama Canal. He ended the Coal Miners Strike of 1902 and gave Cuba its independence. The United States had its best economic status thus far while he was in office. With all of these accomplishments it’s of little surprise that Theodore Roosevelt had the most popular approval rating of any president and won the 1904 election by the largest landslide up to that time.

The most incredible thing about Theodore Roosevelt is that his two terms as President of the United States were probably the least interesting years of his life. After leaving office he travelled overseas and became a great African hunter. When he returned and saw that his handpicked predecessor, the pathetically obese William Howard Taft, was reversing policies that he had implemented while in office, he quickly turned against his old friend and challenged him for the Republican candidacy of the 1912 election. When Roosevelt didn’t get it, he started his own “Progressive Party,” more popularly known as the “Bull Moose” party, and though he knew he couldn’t win the general election as a third party candidate, he made sure that the Republicans split their votes, assuring that the fat Taft would not be reelected. After that he travelled to Brazil to be the first to explore an unknown waterway that ran through the Amazon. Measured in today’s standards, it would be similar to George W. Bush being the first to explore Mars, if the planet had hordes of dangerous aliens that could kill human beings at any moment.

At 42, Theodore Roosevelt was the youngest person ever to become President of the United States. I believe the years leading up to that moment are his most interesting. At the age of 23 he was minority leader of the New York State Assembly. By the time he was 40 he would be the state’s governor. In between that time he co-founded the Boone and Crocket Club and created the National Zoo in Washington D.C. He was the New York City Police Commissioner, the Assistant Secretary of the Navy, and when the Spanish-American War flared up, he formed his own volunteer regiment to fight on the front lines. Borrowing the name from Buffalo Bill’s Wild West, Roosevelt’s “Rough Riders” were influential in the victory at San-Juan Hill. Believing that no politician should send boys to war without experiencing combat themselves, Roosevelt thought he was “unkillable” as he rode in to battle, bullets whizzing by him, but none hitting his flesh. Measured in today’s standards, it would be similar to Ted Cruz traveling to Afghanistan to personally fight the Taliban.

On top of everything we’ve already discussed, there was one profession that Roosevelt worked at his entire life. If making a living refers to earning an income, then Theodore Roosevelt made his living as a writer. If he never became president he might still very well be remembered as one the greatest authors of his day. At the age of 23 he published The Naval War of 1812, which just happened to be the most comprehensive book on naval history that the world had ever seen at the time. He would go on to write 36 more volumes of history, natural history, biography, political philosophy, memoirs, and essays. Never being an economically intelligent or business savvy man, he sometimes wrote books to pay off debts and to provide his family with the comfortable lifestyle that they had become accustomed to.  He once took a month long vacation, which to him meant writing a 63,000 word book on Oliver Cromwell.

I could go on and on about Theodore Roosevelt. In fact, there have been tens of thousands of pages of academic study devoted to the man. But I will wrap things up with my own personal observation concerning the man who considered it an “outrageous impertinence” to be called “Teddy” to his face. Engraved on the front of the American Museum of Natural History in New York City are the following words to describe Theodore Roosevelt: “Ranchman, scholar, explorer, scientist, conservationist, naturalist, statesman, author, historian, humanitarian, soldier, patriot.” I believe they left something out, a single word that could sum up all the others—adventurer.

I’m pretty sure the reason that Theodore Roosevelt did anything in his life is because he thought it would be a “bully” good adventure. When he was a child he suffered from many medical ailments, including severe asthma. A doctor once told him that he would have to live an easy life, staying indoors, participating in very little exercise. He thanked the doctor for his advice and then told him he would, from that moment on, do the exact opposite of what the physician recommended. He became a successful boxer while at Harvard, and throughout his life would challenge certain guests of his home to friendly matches of boxing and then wrestling. He was an expert hunter, and as confident riding a horse as climbing a mountain. While president he was accustomed to 20-mile hikes and swimming naked in the Potomac River, even in the dead of winter. While on a presidential visit to Yosemite he escaped into the wilderness with John Muir, and while at Yellowstone took off alone, neither time telling anyone where he was going. When he was campaigning against Taft in 1912 he was shot in the chest by a would-be assassin. Luckily, the bullet was slowed down by a rolled up manuscript in his pocket. He refused to go to the hospital before delivering his speech, saying to the crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t know whether you fully understand that I’ve just been shot; but it takes more than that to kill a “Bull Moose.” When America joined the Great War in Europe, the ex-president, then in his mid-fifties, begged the government to allow him to lead another volunteer regiment, but was denied. But the sense of adventure never left him, and neither did the fight. When he died in 1919 at the age of 60, he was the favorite to win the next presidential election.

To find out more about Theodore Roosevelt and other interesting American icons, 

read The Road and the River: An American Adventure. 

Now available at jonpenfold.com and on Amazon!

The Truth about the NFL

ROGER: Good morning, Martin. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, have a seat.

MARTIN: Thank you, Mr. Goodell.

ROGER: Please, call me Roger.

MARTIN: Okay then, Roger, I’d like to begin by saying how surprised I was when you contacted me. I didn’t even apply for a position with the NFL.

ROGER: Well, we don’t advertise our career opportunities to the public. We actually prefer finding our own candidates.

MARTIN: And I assume you found my resume on LinkedIn?

ROGER: No, to be honest, we found you in an old online news article from 2012. Are you familiar with the one I’m talking about?

MARTIN: I haven’t the slightest clue.

ROGER: (laughs) The Omaha Times reported that you were running quite the cheating ring. They claim that not only did you cheat on the Nebraska State Bar Exam, but you were also charging fellow law students to help them cheat.

MARTIN: I can assure you that that was all just a big misunderstanding.

ROGER: It’s quite alright, Martin, you can tell me the truth. I won’t hold it against you.

MARTIN: I swear, Sir, I was set up.

ROGER: You’re a good liar.

MARTIN: But I’m not lying.

ROGER: A man that sticks to his story. Exactly what we’re looking for.

MARTIN: But Sir…

ROGER: Martin, it’s okay, we know you cheated. We know you helped others cheat. We know that you’re a liar. We know that you’ll lie about being a liar. That’s exactly why you’re here. How do you think we found you? Why do you think you’re here in the first place?

MARTIN: I’m sorry, but I don’t think I quite understand.

ROGER: You see Martin, we’re in the business of lying and in order to keep this machine running, we need more people like you—people who are willing to lie through their teeth. Let me ask you a question: what is your favorite professional sport?

MARTIN: Well, football of course…

ROGER: Wrong!

MARTIN: Excuse me?

ROGER: Football can’t be your favorite professional sport because professional football is not a sport.

MARTIN: I don’t follow.

ROGER: Professional football is not a sport because it is illegal in the United States to fix sporting events. Now do you follow?

MARTIN: You’re telling me that the NFL is fixed?

ROGER: In 2004, there was an antitrust lawsuit brought against the NFL. We were able to win the case because the NFL does not actually consider itself a sport, but rather an “entertainment marketplace.”

MARTIN: Why did I never hear about this? I mean, why wasn’t it a big news story?

ROGER: Because nobody really wants the truth, Martin. People want to believe that their team has a shot. That their favorite player is a standup guy. That everything is fair and balanced. But, I think we both know that’s not how a successful business is run.

MARTIN: So, you’re saying that the NFL is fake? Like the WWE?

ROGER: More or less.

MARTIN: But that’s impossible?

ROGER: Why? Why is it impossible?

MARTIN: There are too many players involved. There’s no way you could convince all of them to keep their mouths shut.

ROGER: Who said the players know anything about it?

MARTIN: But how could you pull it off without the players’ involvement?

ROGER: Let me ask you, Martin: have you ever seen an interview with a referee after the game?

MARTIN: I can’t say that I have.

ROGER: That’s because they’re bound by a mandated gag order that prohibits them from talking to the media. What you must understand is, almost any NFL game can be determined by just two calls. Why do you think some overt facemask penalties are ignored, while other, less obvious holding penalties are immediately flagged? You see, in football, a penalty can be called on every play. We decide which ones are called and which ones aren’t.

MARTIN: And you can determine the outcome of every game this way?

ROGER: There are always going to be circumstances beyond our control, but we do have a 93% success rate.

MARTIN: But why? Why rig the outcomes? Why not just let them play?

ROGER: Simple. One word—money. We used to “just let them play,” but we didn’t make any money. You don’t remember football from back in the 60’s and 70’s, but it was a different game. Quite frankly, it was kind of boring. We just gave the fans what they really wanted. We gave them entertainment. And it goes way beyond what happens on the field. We have turned the NFL into a 24 hour a day, 365 day a year spectacle. We’ve convinced people who wouldn’t even think about tuning into a game to spend their mornings talking about us around the water cooler at work. I mean, think about it, it’s better than a soap opera. We’ve got running backs beating their wives and kids. Linebackers and tight ends murdering people. Quarterbacks being investigated for taking PED’s.

MARTIN: And deflating footballs.

ROGER: (laughs) Ha, you liked that didn’t you. I have to be honest. That was my baby. I orchestrated that entire fiasco. Quite proud of it too. Super Bowl 49 was set to be the lowest rated Super Bowl in over a decade, but then Deflategate happened, and we ended up smashing every record.

MARTIN: So, how do you determine who wins?

ROGER: Well, there are many factors involved. It all really comes down to how we can make the most profit. Like, take 2001 for example. 9/11 had just occurred, so it was only natural that the Patriots would win the Super Bowl that year. And then, after Hurricane Katrina, The Saints were the obvious choice. And then, this year, with Payton Manning retiring…well, let’s just say that the storyline kind of wrote itself.

MARTIN: Wow!

ROGER: I know, it all seems so obvious when somebody sits down and explains it to you. So, what do you think? Would you be interested in working with us?

MARTIN: Tell you what, you tell me who’s going to win the Super Bowl this Sunday, and we’ve got a deal. You do know who’s going to win the Super Bowl, don’t you?

ROGER: Of course I do. And it sounds like we’ve got ourselves a deal. The winner of Super Bowl 50 will be…